The Alienist

agent, Suzanne, who reacted perfectly: She was thrilled with the idea, and thought it would make a great volume of popular history. Then I delivered the news that I wanted to do it in novelized form.

Why? she wanted to know. Wasn’t there enough original research material?

Uh—not exactly…

Suzanne took the revelation of the ruse well, but the news that I wanted to pull the same hoax on my editor brought a long pause. Ann Godoff was destined to become one of the great forces in modern publishing over the next decade, but even in 1992 she could be—quietly formidable might be the best way to put it. Putting an amusing professional ruse over on Ann was not, in short, a game for pikers: I would have to be sure, Suzanne told me, of what it might do to Ann’s overall assessment of my seriousness as an author. I was, said I, but if it was the only way to get her to consider letting me do fiction, and especially this fiction, I was ready.

The proposal was delivered; Ann studied it; Suzanne and I went to her midtown office for the fateful meeting. The high quality of the story was conceded; and then I informed Ann that I wanted to tell it in novel form. She became concerned. Why in God’s name would I make such a decision? Wasn’t there (I’d had practice, on this one) enough primary research material? Were the familial descendants not cooperating? Was—

At last, the truth had to be told, again: There was no other way to write it. Because I’d made the whole story up.

Stoically, Ann sat for several minutes; then she slammed her hand down—hard—on her desk and declared, “God damn it! Nobody’s ever fooled me!”

Well, said I nervously, didn’t that prove what an unprecedentedly plausible book the story would make?

There were a few more nervous minutes, during which I received a critical gaze appropriate to my last remark; and then, as it would so often in the future, Ann’s courage shone through, and the deal was struck. The rest was up to me.

And to my readers, to whom I will add just one last note: The initial enthusiasm and support with which this book was greeted were, of course, beyond my capacity to understand or to ever fully acknowledge. But the fact that both The Alienist and its sequel, The Angel of Darkness, have hung on—or rather, the fact that you have made them hang on—to become standards in the worlds of mystery and historical fiction is really something beyond any author’s imagining. It is the kind of reaction in the hope of which writers keep writing, and which allows them to endure (with varying levels of grace) all those ancillary demons that notoriety breeds. But the relationship between book, readers, and author should always be clear, and always be pure: For me, such has been the case from the start. That I should have occasion to write an afterword to an edition such as this is, if nothing else, testament to that fact.

C.C.

Cherry Plain, New York

April 2006

         

Acknowledgments

While doing the preliminary research for this book, it occurred to me that the phenomenon we now call serial killing has been with us for as long as humans have gathered together into societies. This amateur opinion was confirmed, and paths of deeper research were indicated, by Dr. David Abrahamsen, one of America’s foremost experts on violence in general and serial killing in particular. Dr. Abrahamsen passed away in 2002, leaving behind a daunting legacy of fearless and pioneering work; and as I have had no chance to properly acknowledge my debt to and affection for him, I have elected to dedicate this edition, in part, to his memory. Along with the loyalty of its readers, The Alienist ultimately owed its success to his intellectual guidance. He was truly a man who understood how to maintain the vigor of youth through the rigors of age.

The staffs of the Harvard Archives, the New York Public Library, the New-York Historical Society, the American Museum of Natural History, and the New York Society Library all lent invaluable assistance.

John Coston suggested several important avenues of research early on, and took the time to trade ideas. I am grateful.

Many authors contributed unknowingly to this story through their nonfiction accounts of serial killing and killers, and out of these many I cannot fail to offer thanks to: Colin Wilson, for his encyclopedic histories of crime; Janet Colaizzi, for her brilliant study of homicidal insanity since 1800; Harold Schechter, for his examination of the infamous Albert Fish (whose notorious note to Grace Budd’s mother inspired John Beecham’s similar document); Joel Norris, for his justly famous treatise on serial killers; Robert K. Ressler, for his memoir of a life spent chasing such characters; and again, Dr. Abrahamsen, for his unparalleled studies of David Berkowitz and Jack the Ripper.

Tim Haldeman gave the manuscript the benefit of his seasoned eye. I have valued his incisive comments almost as much as his friendship.

As always, Suzanne Gluck and Ann Godoff guided me from wild idea to completed project with grace, skill, and affection. All writers should have such agents and editors. Susan Jensen’s skill, speed, and good humor often helped keep the wolf from the door, and I thank her.

Through his own psychological insight, Tom Pivinski helped turn nightmares into prose. He has been a rock.

In the years since this book was first published, the world and I have lost James Chace, whose advice and friendship were so important to all my work. He is still missed terribly.

David Fromkin, Rob Cowley, and Ezequiel Vinao have continued to provide unflagging comradeship. I am in their debt.

Special gratitude goes to my fellow members of the Core Four at La Tourette: Martin Signore, Debbie Deuble, and Yong Yoon.

I would also like to thank my family, in particular my cousins, Maria and William von Hartz.

A personal note to those who found the quote from John Ray in the original dedication to this book either arcane or, apparently, untenable: Its “secret” (not so very secret after all) was and remains loyalty. It’s been my luck to know so many people, some of whom are listed above, who could grasp this essential notion; and it has saddened me beyond measure to have encountered others who found it a puzzle too complex to unravel.

Finally, for their thoughtfulness in publishing this edition, with its clarifications and afterword, I would like to thank Gina Centrello, Jennifer Hershey, Laura Ford, Caitlin Newman, and Evan Camfield.

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